FRANZ: But... don’t the others hate me?
EVA: What are you, stupid? Haven’t you realized it’s all in your imagination, you mega-dork?
FRANZ: But... I hate myself.
MEIZE: One who truly hates himself, he cannot love. He cannot place his trust in another. 
FRANZ: I’m a coward. I’m cowardly, sneaky, and weak. 
BAST: No. Only if you think you are. But if you know yourself, you can take care of yourself. 
FRANZ: I hate myself. But... maybe I could love…

apologies for another long leave of absence. back in school, personal shit, just kind of felt disillusioned with the whole cinephile thing but anyways. randomly got told to watch this by somebody on twitter after realizing that i hadn’t actually gotten to watching it despite meaning to for years and i mean. as far as a movie to make you feel something after being more or less abstinent of the medium for a while it doesn’t get more devastating than…

genuinely Roger Ebert has worms in his brains for calling this the worst film of 1997. in one sense the film is aware of the futility in trying to capture the whole of a band's history in a two hour picture (most of the talking head interview segments with Poncho basically amount to him saying this much) but also it kind of ends up fulfilling it in the end with the montage of Like A Hurricane performed three separate times…

I’m a trans man. I guess I don’t really talk about this that much on Letterboxd dot com because to be honest it doesn’t speak that much to my views on film - or at the very least the views on film that I specifically put in my reviews. As a trans man, i.e. somebody affected by general anti-trans sentiment, but not specifically by transmisogyny (hatred against trans women/transfeminine people), I will be the first to admit that almost everything…